Lay your sleeping head, my love
by Abnormal Girl
Summary: Yuuri is exhausted from a hard day's work of being the Demon King, and he still has his homework to do. Meanwhile, Wolfram faces the facts about Yuuri's humanity. Based on the poem by W. H. Auden. R&R.


Lay your sleeping head, my love

The moonlight poured into the Demon King's bed chamber, flooding into every corner. It filtered through the partially drawn curtains and spilled across the velveteen carpet. It touched the side of the royal twin bed, leaving the figure that lay there in an almost glowing silhouette. Across the room, a candle flitted in the corner, illuminating enormous stacks of paper which overflowed off the edge of a sturdy wooden desk, falling around yet another figure's feet. He sat in a chair, with his back hunched over the desk, candlelight reflecting in his black eyes. The only sound was the scratching of his quill as he worked hours upon hours into the night.

"Yuuri… come to bed," Wolfram called from under the sheets.

Yuuri gave an abrupt grunt from his mountainous pile of papers which surrounded him in an intimidating heap, almost knocking over the inkpot as he half-heartedly placed the quill into it. He looked over with shaded baggy eyes that slowly shut before being suddenly forced open again. His head hung limp as he frowned in Wolfram's general direction.

"Don't say it that way, you make it sound like we're married," Yuuri mumbled, annoyed. He then reluctantly returned to his seemingly endless amount of homework, almost collapsing on the desk in the process before pulling himself back up again.

Wolfram would have liked to point out the fact that they were technically, legally, and literally _engaged_, but he really didn't feel like arguing at the moment.

"_Fine._ Get some sleep, wimp," Wolfram pursued.

"Noooooooo!" Yuuri whined. He heatedly turned around to face Wolfram once more, flinging more papers off of his desk in the process. "I have to get this work done! First, I analyzed this stupid English poem. Then Günter wouldn't stop fawning over how 'elegant' and 'beautiful' it was after he forced me to read it aloud, and then he had me translate it into the Demon Kingdom's written language, too! Then he gave me all of this history to study, even though I told him I already had way too much history to study to begin with! And now that I've wasted so much time on all that other work, I haven't been able to finish my science yet!" Yuuri fumed for a few seconds, and then proceeded to smack his forehead onto the desk. Wolfram couldn't tell if it was for venting, or for trying to stay awake.

Wolfram rolled his eyes, "You stupid wimp! Time doesn't pass in your world while you're in the Demon Kingdom. As long as you're here, you have plenty of time to get it done."

Yuuri buried his face into the homework. "But I might not be here for very long!" he said in a voice muffled through paper. "For all I know, I could be sent back tomorrow. I have to get this work done tonight, or else… I'll get a bad grade… Günter will scold me… so I have to…" Yuuri trailed off.

"Yuuri?"

Wolfram pulled himself out of bed and walked over to the desk to tap Yuuri on the shoulder. The papers that were near Yuuri's mouth gently rose and fell to the beat of his steady breathing. Wolfram could tell by how relaxed Yuuri's lean muscles were that he was already in a deep sleep.

Wolfram sighed and pulled up a nearby chair. _What is all this, anyways?_ he thought to himself as he shuffled through the papers. Soon, he came upon a neatly typed up sheet of white parchement which could only be the "stupid English poem" Yuuri had previously mentioned. Wolfram briefly examined the foreign curves of the Japanese characters, and then set it back down to look for the translated version. Nearby, he found a piece of pale scroll with horrible handwriting and scrawled doodles in every corner. Wolfram scoffed at the pathetic abundance of grammar errors and tried his best to read the poem.

_Lay your sleeping head, my love,_

_Human on my faithless arm;_

_Time and fevers burn away_

_Individual beauty from_

_Thoughtful children, and the grave_

_Proves the child ephemeral;_

_But in my arms till break of day_

_Let the living creature lie,_

_Mortal, guilty, but to me_

_The entirely beautiful_

_Soul and body have no bounds:_

_To lovers as they lie upon_

_Her tolerant enchanted slope_

_In their ordinary swoon,_

_Grave the vision Venus sends_

_Of supernatural sympathy,_

_Universal love and hope;_

_While an abstract insight wakes_

_Among the glaciers and the rocks_

_The hermit's sensual ecstasy_

_Certainty, fidelity_

_On the stroke of midnight pass_

_Like vibrations of a bell,_

_And fashionable madmen raise_

_Their pedantic boring cry:_

_Every farthing of the cost,_

_All the dreaded cards foretell,_

_Shall be paid, but from this night_

_Not a whisper, not a thought,_

_Not a kiss nor look be lost._

_Beauty, midnight, vision dies:_

_Let the winds of dawn that blow_

_Softly round your dreaming head_

_Such a day of sweetness show_

_Eye and knocking heart may bless,_

_Find the mortal world enough;_

_Noons of dryness see you fed_

_By the involuntary powers,_

_Nights of insult let you pass_

_Watched by every human love._

_-W. H. Auden, January 1937_

Wolfram's eyes scanned through the words again and again, trying to find the meaning behind them. Somehow, the poem gave off a very fragile feel. It described something very precious which would soon come to a tragic end…

It was only when Wolfram's gaze drifted from the scroll to his fiancé's snoring head did he realize what it was.

_Humanity_.

Yuuri had human blood in his veins- therefore he had a human lifespan. It was only so long compared to that of a demon's. One day, Yuuri's life would end, but Wolfram's would go on and on. He would continue living _without Yuuri_.

The realization hit Wolfram hard. He could instantly feel a lump rise in his throat at the thought of loosing his fiancé. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he tried to hold back a sob. Involuntarily, he reached out and embraced Yuuri's resting figure. One arm lay across Yuuri's back and the other around his head. Then, Wolfram gently placed his own head onto the back of Yuuri's neck.

Wolfram didn't want to think about life without Yuuri. The Great One knows how annoyed he got whenever Yuuri was only away for a couple of days. He felt uneasy when Yuuri wasn't around. He would endlessly worry about what Yuuri was doing at that very moment, whether it was flirting with other people or being in grave danger. He simply wanted to know that Yuuri was safe. If Yuuri was no longer there, he might go mad.

"Wolfram, _what are you doing?_" Yuuri groggily mumbled against his sleeves.

Wolfram instantly jumped away from Yuuri and dove back into his chair. He tried to hide the fact that he was just crying and come up with an explanation as to why he was just sprawled across Yuuri's sleeping body, but a sniffle escaped before he could even wipe his eyes.

"Wolfram…" Yuuri began as he lifted his head. He didn't seem awake, but he definitely seemed aware. Like he could think functionally, but was at risk of crashing again any second.

Wolfram couldn't speak- for fear that he might break down again. So he tried to hide his eyes from the candlelight by tilting his head downward.

Yuuri was perceptive as always.

"Are you crying?"

"_No._"

Another sniffle escaped, and he could hold back no more. Wolfram's shoulders shook as he brought his hands up to his face and began bawling audibly.

"Ah- don't cry!" Yuuri stood up and walked over to Wolfram. He reached out to him in concern, not quite knowing what to do. Yuuri settled with placing a comforting hand on Wolfram's back. Seeing no reaction, Yuuri began to talk in an awkwardly fast pace, "This is because I yelled at you earlier, isn't it? Was I yelling? I didn't mean to, if I was. I was just venting. I wasn't angry at you at all! I'm really sorry if I made you upset-"

Wolfram lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at Yuuri.

"What are you rambling about? _Of course you're not mad at me!_" his voice choked, but his stubborn words were as fiery as always.

Realizing that Wolfram wasn't _completely_ out of sorts, Yuuri sighed with relief.

"What's wrong?"

Wolfram crossed his arms as he turned his head away from Yuuri, an obstinate pout forming on his lips. "It's _nothing_," Wolfram insisted. There were still tears locked in the corners of his eyes.

Yuuri didn't move- his hand still rested on Wolfram's back. Wolfram could sense him frown. Seeing that Yuuri still wasn't convinced, Wolfram sighed.

"Your 'stupid English poem' made me depressed, that's all," he muttered.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows. "Oh, _that?_"

Yuuri stepped toward his desk, his hand leaving Wolfram's back, and he picked up the Japanese version. "I could _never _figure it out."

Wolfram stood up and moved next to Yuuri.

"You _couldn't?_" he said incredulously. "I thought you said you analyzed it!"

"Well," Yuuri began nervously. "I gave up and just rewrote the poem with different wording."

Wolfram gaped at him. Yuuri frowned.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

"How is it possible for someone to be such a _wimp?_"

Wolfram grabbed the translated version and pointed at it. "You had to cheat at analyzing _this?_ You've FAILED at your assignment!"

Yuuri shrugged and smiled apprehensively, "You mean… I'm going to get an F?"

"Yes! You are going to get an abundance of Fs!"

"That's not how the system works…"

"I don't care! We're going to reanalyze it!"

Wolfram shoved away some papers to leave an empty space on the table before placing the scroll there. He then moved the candle closer to it, illuminating the letters. Pulling up a chair and grabbing the nearby quill, he began to underline keywords throughout the poem with great determination.

"Wait," Yuuri shook his head. "Weren't you _just_ telling me to go to bed? Now you want me to stay awake so we can fix my _homework_?"

Wolfram didn't take his eyes off of the poem. "Well, you don't know when you'll be sent back to Earth, so you should get this done now."

Yuuri groaned in annoyance at Wolfram's decisively indecisive attitude. "But it doesn't make any _sense!_ What does it mean by 'children' and 'cards' and 'mortal world'? Why do poets have to say everything in such a confusing way?"

Wolfram rolled his eyes. "Stop _whining_ and I'll help you! Come over here!"

After heaving a sigh of defeat, Yuuri slouched in a chair next to Wolfram. He reached for the Japanese version and scanned the text once again with dark pupils.

"I still have no clue when it comes to this poetry stuff. What do you think it means?"

"Look," Wolfram responded, pointing a finger at the fifth line of the first verse. "_'Thoughtful children, and the grave, proves the child ephemeral.' _It means life is short. Everyone dies at some point or another, even children. And then…" The finger travelled to the sixth line of the third verse. "'_Every farthing of the cost, all the dreaded cards foretell, shall be paid.'_ There's no way around it. Life ends, and there's nothing you can do about it. So…" The finger reached its final destination, the fifth-to-last line of the concluding verse. "'_Find the mortal world enough…'"_

Wolfram hadn't thought about that line. Instantly, he found himself rereading the entire poem.

Meanwhile, Yuuri was cringing as he looked at his own copy of the poem, "Geez… I can see why this poem made you upset. It's just plain depressing! Wolfram? _Wolfram?_"

Wolfram wasn't paying attention. He was staring at all of the lines he had skimmed past the first time he read the poem. Now, he was seeing the meaning with new eyes.

_But in my arms till break of day, let the living creature lie, mortal, guilty, but to me, the entirely beautiful… but from this night, not a whisper, not a thought, not a kiss nor look be lost… nights of insult let you pass, watched by every human love._

Yes, the poem spoke of humanity. Yes, the poem spoke of death. But it didn't speak of sadness. Rather, simply because life was so short, that is why everything was so precious. That fear of ending, in a way, made people care. The present is just as important as the future and the past. Endings made things exist, so they can be remembered and held dear to those who cared about them.

Wolfram put down the poem, and looked up at Yuuri. Yuuri could sense something in Wolfram's eyes, but he couldn't place what it was. At the very least, it didn't seem as if anything were wrong.

In fact, a warm smile spread smoothly across Wolfram's lips. It wasn't a smile which Yuuri saw very often. He could only name a couple of times that he remembered seeing it before. Although he didn't know what made Wolfram smile like that, he felt reassured whenever he saw it- like he _knew_ that Wolfram was happy without a doubt.

"You know what, it's really late. You _should _get some rest. I don't want to get yelled at for keeping you up all night. Let's go to bed and finish this tomorrow morning."

Yuuri raised an eyebrow at Wolfram's suspiciously sudden change of attitude. "You've been changing your mind _a lot_ tonight, but whatever. I'm probably gonna pass out again in about two seconds, anyways… good night."

Yuuri got up and took a few strides towards the bed, proceeded to flop across the sheets, and closed his eyes to let all of the night's stress slip away.

Wolfram blew out the candle, and followed Yuuri.

On any other night, Wolfram would have generally fallen asleep before Yuuri ded. This aggravated Yuuri to great extents because Wolfram was an impossibly loud snorer and always managed to sprawl every limb across every inch of the bed. It was only natural that Yuuri had trouble sleeping.

But this time, Wolfram purposely waited until he was sure that Yuuri was completely asleep before resting his own head onto the pillow. It may have been incredibly cliché, but he wanted to watch Yuuri's sleeping head.

Yuuri would die one day, but not tonight. Not for a very long time. Yes, it was more than likely that he would die sooner than Wolfram. But that was no reason to think that every moment meant nothing. It was a reason to treasure every moment because they meant everything, even the simplest ones.

Yuuri was safe- his sleeping figure within Wolfram's reach. For now, that was all that mattered. So, Wolfram was able to dream with a comfortable smile on his face, keeping in mind the promise of the many new adventures he would have with Yuuri the next day.

* * *

AN: Yes. I know. It was incredibly corny, I did a horrible job of analyzing Auden, and I made Wolfram way too deep. That's what I get for writing a fanfic based on a poem, I guess?

*facedesk*

Review, please?


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